


Just Warming Up

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017 [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Family, Fluff, Parenthood, Parentlock, Sherlock December Ficlets 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Christmas pageants and juvenile wars





	Just Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the [Sherlock December Ficlets ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fcollections%2FSherlock_December_Ficlets_2017&t=NjRmODc4ZjE3OGJjNjUzYzg2NWVhY2QzMTRjNDJmOTUwMzdkOTRhMCxabzFVQjBkMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfMPAp7-tN-90HMCNGHRDOw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmissdaviswrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167644180668%2Fsherlock-december-ficlets&m=0) challenge. Each will be its own story, though knowing me a couple may follow an arc of sorts.  
> The prompt used for this entry: Warming Up/Scrooge

“God bless us, everyone!”

Yes, there were the expected “Awws” from proud families as the curtains close, including Doctor John Watson who stood beaming giving applause through the multiple rounds of bows. He would declare a certain _Ghost of Christmas Present_ received the most applause of the three spirits. It also could have been the overwhelming laughter as she brandished a light saber during her bows with a flourish.  It could have been a proud father’s bias, but he would claim it was scientific fact.

The light saber she used in lieu of her fairy wand. Rosie had accidentally hit Clarke, the child who played Scrooge and now erstwhile owner of said light saber, with her wand making everyone laugh. Thus she had gotten the notion in her head that instead of waving her wand from her on she would hit him with it because it was funnier. As Clarke would forget his lines during rehearsals and had to do the scene repeatedly, he was hit, repeatedly. The hits were not hard, but they were direct hits every time, she is a Watson-Holmes after all.

After one hit too many, Clarke made the mistake of snatching her wand, snapping it into several pieces and throwing it at her in a fit of anger.  This was during the last dress rehearsal less than an hour before show time.  The wand was something she and Sherlock had made battery powered with ribbons, lights and glitter. There was no time to buy a new one, let alone recreate it scratch.

  * Problem 1, Mrs. Basdeo, the drama teacher, saw the whole thing unfold and knew Rosie was not in the wrong. At least not until she got that first punch in before being restrained.
  * Problem 2, The drama teacher is also Clarke’s mother who knew her son had to be reprimanded for his actions.
  * Problem 3 Rosie had overheard Mrs. Basdeo tell another teacher she had bought the light saber for Clarke as a surprise.
  * Problem 4, Guess what little Rosie asked to use in replacement of said wand in retaliation?



The same light saber she then used to bop Scrooge upside his miserly head with the ad lib of “Be of good cheer it was not a TOASTER!” during the play itself to uproarious response from those who got the reference.  Mrs. Basdeo was then put in the position of explaining the entire incident to John when her son chased Rosie up the aisle as soon as the play was over trying to take the light saber back.

There was a small pile of fighting children in the middle of the floor of the cafeteria. Other parents were coming to separate the combatants. At the bottom of the pile? Rosie who was attempting to wrestle that same light saber from the hands of Clarke Basdeo.

A tradition with Rosie’s school - the day after the holiday pageant the young actors and their parents volunteered at a shelter in the city. Sherlock and John had flipped a coin. One father got the pageant, the other got volunteer duty. It so happened that this year it was at a shelter where her fathers had helped solve a series of murders earlier in the year and was known by the staff so both were there. It was Wiggins who came to the kitchen door to inform Rosie’s fathers of the kerfuffle.  

“Stop this NOW!” Sherlock’s voice thundered across the room as he approached the melee.

Both Rosie and Clarke immediately jumped to their feet, the toy forgotten on the dirty  floor between them.  

“Explain yourself.” Mrs. Basdeo had also run over. She addressed both children, but her focus was on her offspring.

Both started yelling over each other about to come to blows again when Sherlock let loose a piercing whistle as he loomed over the two eight-year-old children and held out his hand. Rosie retrieves the saber from the floor, placing it in her father’s waiting hand. John had to put his fist to his mouth to not react to Sherlock’s rapid blink of revulsion at whatever slime that had attached itself to the item now touching his hand. He took some napkins from a table and slipped them to the grateful detective.

Sherlock arched a brow noting another little boy slowly backing away from the scene. He was not a classmate of Rosie’s. He locks eyes with the boy freezing him in place. The detective quickly ran his eyes over the scene before him and nods once in understanding. 

“I see.”

“Rosamund Mary Watson-Holmes, is pugilism how we settle things now?” He addressed his daughter quietly.

She stared at him, blond brows knit in confusion for a moment. He realized she did not know the word _pugilism_. When she flicked her blue eyes, so very much like her father’s, at the boy beside her he could see the basic comprehension of the word dawn as she mouthed the syllables to herself.

“No Da. I didn’t mean to fight,” She answers at last, “If I may…”

“Oh no…” Clarke groaned, his mother sighed.

“What?” John looked at the two, holding Rosie gently by the shoulders.

“She’s just warming up.”  Mrs. Basdeo explained.” Any sentence she begins with _If I may_ usually will mean the class is held hostage for a long explanation. The bad part is she’s usually right once done.”

“No, idea where she’s learned that from.” John sniffs. Somewhere close behind them they hear Wiggins snort. He ignores the man and turns to Rosie, “Your Da wasn’t there last night, can you give the important parts dear?”

“He broke my wand. I asked for his light saber because I saw it and she let me keep it. It’s MY lightsaber now - I can do whatever I want with it, obviously.” Rosie crossed her arms across her chest clearly upset at not being able to tell the larger story.

John flicked an amused eye at his husband that clearly said _Drama Queen_.

“Let me guess. The little boy over there saw the light saber?” Sherlock ignored John, prompting the little girl when she grew quiet. “So you gave it to him.”

“But it was mine! If Rosie don’t want it, it’s supposed to come back to me!” Clarke whined.

“It was not yours. Mrs. Basdeo hadn’t given it to you yet.” Rosie stated with amazing calm.

“But she was going to!” Clarke’s voice rose.

“Clarke, silence now.” Mrs. Basdeo gave him a look the brooked no argument. At least not from her child anyway.

“But she DIDN’T, did she?” Rosie replied with an imperious finality that no one could argue as a little blond brow rose.

“Wow.” Wiggins commented behind them. “I know _exactly_ where she got that from.”

Sherlock shot him a dirty look as John somehow managed to remain stone-faced.

“I don’t really want it, Papa. I only wore it today because I knew it would make Clarke mad.” Rosie admitted to her fathers, “I was going to give it to him in school tomorrow, I really was. But I was talking to David and gave it to him because he really, really liked it. When Clarke saw me give it to David he came and took it. I was trying to get it back for David. Mrs. Basdeo gave it to me because Clarke was mean to me yesterday. So it was mine. I gave it to David, because I have two daddies that can buy me another one if I really want one. You have a mommy who can buy you one if you can behave, but I don’t think you can behave. David doesn’t have a mommy or a daddy to buy him one and you want to be a meanie and take it! That is NOT okay!” Rosie’s voice steadily rose as she spoke ending with foot stomp as she glared at Clarke.

“And I know where she got _that_ from.” Wiggins continued his solo peanut gallery commentary. It was John’s turn to cut him thr dirty look while Sherlock remained stone-faced even as his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Clarke?” Mrs. Basdeo prompted her son.

Sherlock held the toy out to the boy.

“Are you getting me one of my own?” He looked at his mother with hope.

“No, because you still were mean to Rosamund last night and this is your punishment for it.” She explained.

“Fine.” Clarke sighed taking the light saber from Sherlock. He turned it on, did a few test swings with it, as he turned to David. He turned it off and held it out to the boy. “She’s right, It’s yours, I shouldn’t have taken it.”

David standing with one of the other volunteers looked up in questioning hope.

“It’s alright David, really, you can have it.” Clarke put it in the boy’s hand.

“Thank you!” David took it and turned it on. His glee was evident. He looked to Rosie “Can—can you show me how you did that turn with it?”

“Sure. Let’s go over there where we have more room.” Rosie grabbed David’s hand. She turned to Clarke “Come on you can show us how to flip and catch it. I can’t do that yet.”  

The children run off.

“And another juvenile war averted.” John smirks shaking his head.

“If only all wars were so easily handled.” Mrs. Basdeo grins walking away.

“Whatever would Mycroft have left to do?” Sherlock snickered.

“Are we Montague or the Capulets?” Wiggins joked.

“What is this _we_?” John turned to Wiggins at last, “And did you just put our eight-year-old daughter as a love interest in a Shakespearean tragedy?”

“Of course not John this has a happy ending.” Sherlock sighs dramatically walking back to the kitchen “As always you see, but…”

Wiggins and John look at each other knowingly.

“He’s just warming up isn’t he?”

“Yup.”


End file.
